


What Happens In Vegas

by Devilc



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Romance, Yuletide, Yuletide 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-15
Updated: 2010-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-06 07:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/pseuds/Devilc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years later, Tyra and Jason catch up in Vegas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens In Vegas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angel_grace](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=angel_grace).



> Last year I got a request for FNL, characters: any. I ended up writing Tyra/Jason. So imagine how hard I laughed when I opened my inbox and saw a request for FNL: Tyra/Jason. This story was a joy to write.
> 
> Thank you very much to Devo for her beta work.

Of all the places Tyra never expected to end up, Las Vegas was one of them. Growing up in Dillon, Las Vegas was "Sin City" -- this exotic and mysterious vacation destination -- not a place where people lived and worked or went to school.

But Tami Taylor had pressed her to apply to multiple schools, and on a lark, Tyra had filled out her application for UNLV, sent in her scores and a letter of recommendation from Tami, and to Tyra's surprise the William F. Harrah College of Hotel Management accepted her -- on academic probation -- and Applebees said they'd even transfer her job.

Las Vegas.

Scary, mysterious, wicked, exotic, fabulous Las Vegas.

Everything Dillon and _Texas_ was not.

So, Tyra rolled the dice, packed her bags and drove her ancient truck out there, praying it wouldn't die on the way.

Other than the two weeks of National Finals Rodeo in December and one chance meeting with a certain asshole she'd rather never see again? Las Vegas was nothing like Dillon.

She loved it.

***

As if going to Las Vegas weren't strange enough, Tyra ended up working her way through college by working on the reference desk of the library. Yeah. The library. (She could all but hear Landry laughing in the back of her mind over that one.) But the Peer Research Coaches program was designed for "at risk" students like herself, and the pay and the hours were much better than what she made waiting tables at Applebees. Plus, the stuff she was doing actually helped her be a better student herself.

It also helped that the director of the Peer Research Coach program was also the library's liaison to the Hotel College and helped Tyra get her foot in the door with all the people in the college who could really help advance her career because they knew all the important people at the hotels, the Chamber of Commerce, and the Convention Authority.

Tyra graduated with honors, getting her BA in Meetings and Events Management -- who knew that all the work she did planning that kick-ass senior prom would actually lead to something real?

***

So, here she was, 10 years after high school, working at The Wynn as the liaison to the High Roller Guests.

Sometimes, the job sucked. Like, when at the end of an 12 hour day she had to put on a bright smile and go deal with a rich asshole throwing an entitlement tantrum.

But, as Steve Wynn himself had once told her -- after seeing her soothe the ruffled feathers of a Sultan's concubine -- hers was a job that not everybody could do, even with training. You either had the right personality for it or you didn't. "I'm glad that a talented and poised, beautiful and elegant woman like you is the face of The Wynn to this class of client," he'd said. And then he doubled her salary.

The occasional asshat aside, Tyra loved her job. She'd gotten to meet rich and famous people from around the world, and while many of them took her (and her department) for granted, some of them showed incredible thoughtfulness and tipped her generously for catering to their whims. Most importantly, the job never had a dull day, took full advantage of her abilities to network and solve problems on the fly, and the upper management of The Wynn certainly never took her or her talents for granted.

She missed having a boyfriend though, and momma always called her and asked her when she was going to find a nice man and settle down.

A) When she found a nice man  
and  
B) when she had a moment to settle down.

***

The frantic call had come in about 15 minutes ago. JD McCoy, Quarterback for the New York Jets, had requested a special shower set up in his suite of rooms. His agent was wheelchair bound and had specific needs.

They had put the request in well in advance. It should have been waiting when McCoy and his entourage arrived.

For some reason, it wasn't.

Tyra, with a team of people from Housekeeping and Engineering standing behind her, drew a deep breath, smoothed the pearl choker at her throat, and knocked on the door.

JD McCoy was paying $10,000 a week for these rooms, and Tyra was here to make sure that everything got taken care of to his complete satisfaction, impress upon him the degree to which The Wynn valued his patronage (of the High Limit tables), and, if he remembered her, which she doubted he would, she'd play up the Dillon connection.

Her carefully rehearsed, "Hello, I'm Tyra Collette and I'm here on behalf of Mr. Wynn to personally attend to this, and any other issues you might have during your stay with us. We are deeply sorry about this inconvenience" vanished in an instant.

What came out of her mouth was: "Holy shit! _Jason_?!"

***

He found it funny.

They all found it funny.

Especially Tim, who seemed to find the sight of her in a suit and pearls extra funny. "You look really smart in it," he finally said. Catching himself before she could retort, he amended, "I mean, not that you'd look stupid without it. You look really --" he scrambled to find the right word.

"Psst! Quit while you're ahead, Tim," JD stage whispered from his place by the window.

"Well, of course she looks sharp in it," Jason, whose all-American good looks had only gotten more so, said to Tim. "It's Chanel. If you laid out five grand for a suit, you'd damn well better look good in it."

"Six, we got you dressed pretty sharp for three hundred dollars, if I remember it right."

Jason blew him a raspberry.

This could go on all day, and as wonderful as it was to see Tim and Jason again, Tyra had a crackberry full of things to get to. "So," she said brightly, clapping her hands, "let's get the shower fixed. Lead the way."

***

"Tyra, you really didn't have to go through all this trouble -- getting it fixed right away," Jason said as he inspected the shower, "as long as it got done before this evening would've been fine."

Actually, yes, she did. It was her job, but in this case, it had also turned out to be a labor of love, because, well, it was Jason.

She smiled back at him and said, "Oh, it was my pleasure, Jason."

As she reached the door, Tim looked up from where he and JD were playing video games on the TV and said, "So, you got any plans later tonight? One-Two wants to know if you'd like to join Six and me for dinner."

"And spoil your no girls allowed boys week out in Sin City?"

JD and Tim smirked at each other before Tim laughed. "For you, Tyra, we'll make an exception. It's good to see you again."

"Pick a place and let us know," JD said. Giving Tim a mischievous grin he added, "Brownie points if they have squab on the menu."

Tim gave him the evil eye and split second later they both sniggered like schoolboys.

"Don't worry, Tyra," Jason said, wheeling over, "there is an adult present. I'll make sure they're ready and dressed in something other than a T-shirt and jeans at supper time."

***

After dinner at Ruth's Chris -- no way in hell was Tyra going to be seen dining with them at The Wynn, or any place that had squab on the menu (she did not want to revisit the origin of _that_ joke) -- they bundled her in to the hotel's limo, and Tim passed the driver a $100 bill and said, "Take us to strippers and beer!"

Jason's sigh was audible.

***

Growing up, Tyra saw enough of the Landing Strip to rob any strip club of its mystique and allure. Other than varying degrees of decor, they were all pretty much the same.

Tim was psyched that Olympic Gardens had an upstairs with guys for her and told her to take notes before he clapped JD and Jason on the back and crowed, "Alright, gentlemen, let's go make some memories!"

It's time to call it a night. Tyra decided to wait a few minutes before texting Jason that she planned to go home and that she'd see them later.

Jason rolled out of the club before she could hit send. "I'm kind of not in the mood for 'making memories' tonight. Let's go someplace else and do some more catching up."

"Promise me that we won't talk football and I'm all for it."

Jason chortled. Dinner had been football, and football, with some more football.

***

Someplace else ended up being Luv-It Frozen Custard because Jason thought it was cracktacularly funny that a strip club in a sketchy neighborhood had an ice-cream parlor behind it open this late at night.

He stopped laughing and actually moaned in pleasure after the first mouthful of his black cherry sundae, even if they were eating out in the parking lot because it was now after 11 and Luv It had closed.

"Told you it was good," Tyra said.

"Yeah, but --"

"It's a Vegas institution."

"We won't tell Tim and JD about this," he said conspiratorially, "it will be our dirty little secret."

She arched an eyebrow. "Making memories, are you?"

"Tyra, this is like spring break in my mouth."

Tyra mmmd around her mouthful and wondered if they were the only people who had ever sat outside of Luv It late at night, eating frozen custard, dressed in Chanel and Armani. It was a little strange. Even for Vegas.

He smiled up at her. "Penny for your thoughts."

"My feet are killing me." Her shoes were $500 Jimmy Choos and fit like a glove, but after 16 hours in them, her dogs were barking.

"Have a seat," he patted his lap.

"You sure? I'm heavier than I look. I don't want to hurt --" She blushed immediately and wished she could take the words back.

Jason smiled without missing a beat. "I'll never tell."

"Are you sure? I mean -- oh god, I've forgotten her name --"

"Erin?" he supplied.

"Erin won't mind?"

He bit his lip. "We broke up years ago."

Oh, in that case? She seated herself and slipped her shoes off, wriggling her toes. "So, no girlfriend?"

Jason shook his head, "No, nothing serious. Dates here and there. What about you?"

Tyra frowned in thought and frowned even more when she realized she hadn't had a date in six months.

She felt as much as heard Jason's laugh. "That bad?"

"Don't ever tell my mom, but I just realized I haven't had a date in six months. Just ... busy, I guess."

He snorted. "Tell me about it. Running damage control for Tim and JD, wheeling around behind them, cleaning up their messes is ... I swear, Tyra, they are the world's biggest toddlers."

She laughed. Tim had always had a knack for creating chaos wherever he went. But something had Jason chewing his bottom lip in thought. "You look like you're trying to move a mountain with your mind," she said softly.

Jason sighed and said, "I know you said no football, but JD's contract comes up for renegotiation in a few months. His parents are putting a lot of pressure on him to come back to Texas, meet a nice girl, settle down, fire Tim as his PA, and get somebody nice and boring to manage his day to day affairs."

"Yeah, that struck me as a really strange job for Tim to have."

"Yeah, considering he's not exactly the most organized guy on the planet, I can see their point." Jason smiled enigmatically. "And Dallas or Houston, especially Houston, would love to have him. They have started waiving some very fat cash under our noses."

"And JD?" she asked.

"Asked me if I was _sure_ Alaska had no NFL teams. He wants to play for any team as long as they're at least a 1000 miles away from his folks."

"Wow. That bad?"

"It's ... complicated," he finally said, and shoveled in a huge bite of his quickly melting sundae.

Alright, she could dig that. She understood complicated. In spades. She scraped the last bit of strawberry pecan goodness from her cup and sucked on the spoon.

"Another penny for your thoughts," he murmured.

But she really didn't have any, just a feeling of contentment about sitting and talking with the Jason she liked best -- the man who was as sweet and funny as he was handsome. So she said the first thing that popped into her mind: "All this talk of pennies reminds me of that time we played quarters at the hospital."

Crap. Not exactly the best thing to say because Jason probably didn't want to be reminded of that particular time in his life. But she had had fun that night.

It was the closest thing she'd ever had to going on a date with Jason.

"You had such a crush on me in High School." He laughed, but not unkindly.

Well, no. It was more than a crush. "Yeah," she sighed, "I guess I did. But you had Lyla --"

"And you had Tim," he countered.

"I didn't have Tim," Tyra said bitterly. "Nobody has ever had Tim, except you. And maybe Lyla."

Jason's eyebrows lifted at that.

"This is going to sound really assholish of me, but --"

"I doubt it. Blunt, yes. Assholish, no." He finished the last of his sundae.

"I was using Tim to wait for you, you know. I was waiting for you to break up with Lyla and then I was going to make my move, get you to notice me."

Jason cocked his head and said, "I did notice you, and I did break up with Lyla, and you didn't make a move -- at least not one I saw."

Tyra piffed at him and said, "Yeah, and and it would've been _a lot_ tacky under the circumstances, besides, by that time I had Landry, and you had moved on in life."

"Tyra, can I ask you something?" He began wheeling back towards the club. "You and Landry, how the hell did that happen?"

"It was ... a lot of things, but what kept it going as long as it did is that he saw me as Tyra, not Tyra _Collette_. Not a lot of people did. I think you were one of them ... but I never really got to find out what you thought about me." She paused. "Are you okay? Do I need to get up?"

"It's just a block, and really, you don't weigh that much. You should try wheeling Tim's ass around sometime. Also, would you like to know what I think about you?"

"Sure."

His hand came up, cupped her chin, turned it, and before Tyra could react, he kissed her softly on the lips.

He tasted like vanilla and cherry and something she could only call "Jason".

"Oh!" she gasped when they broke for air. She felt giddy, smiling and blushing like a school girl.

His hand trailed back, his thumb caressing her cheek, and he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. "That's what I think about you," he whispered softly.

She laughed and said, "I like the way you think, Jason Street."

**Author's Note:**

> Continues in [What Happens In Hotel Rooms](http://archiveofourown.org/works/51364).


End file.
